


the light, the match, the rising sun

by GhostCrumpet



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Cake, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Mutual Pining, Sharing a Bed, Undercover Missions, Undercover as Married, Undercover as a Couple, only one bed oh no what to do
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-10
Updated: 2017-03-09
Packaged: 2018-10-02 00:43:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10204862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostCrumpet/pseuds/GhostCrumpet
Summary: Bucky Barnes is just getting back into the swing of things as an undercover agent with the Avengers and with a Hydra-free reformed SHIELD. He just didn't expect his first mission without Steve breathing down his neck to be with Darcy Lewis, newly-minted agent.No big deal. He can handle it. He'd much prefer to handle her, though.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [leftennant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/leftennant/gifts).



> Will have cake. Just not this chapter.
> 
> For Lefty, because she infected me with this stupid muse. BLERHGH.

“You wanna tell me how the hell you expect the goddamn  _ Winter Soldier _ to go to a correspondents retreat and not be fucking made immediately?” Steve was on his feet, palms pressed down to the table’s surface as he leaned forward and glared at Fury.

“Tell ‘im how you really feel, Rogers,” Clint drawled from where he was slowly spinning in his chair at the end of the conference table, the picture of relaxed irreverence. The Winter Soldier himself was sitting in quiet contemplation, looking at the open file on his tablet where it lay in front of him. He scrolled using his finger from the flesh hand since while the metal one would conduct his pulse it often scratched the glass of electronics.

He ignored the other people as they spoke, Fury’s voice rising right alongside Steve’s, counterpointed only by the sharp  _ ow _ coming from Clint when Natasha kicked him to stop him from spinning his chair.

Instead, Bucky focused on the agent he was going to be partnered with for this ill-thought out assignment. He couldn’t help the faint tingle in his fingers as he traced the line of her jaw, and he let out a slow breath. He couldn’t be so damn lucky. How long had he been staring across the compound lunch room, eyeing up the girl in question and never making a move?

Had it partially been that she was like a butterfly when it came to men, floating from one to the other to another? Maybe. He had no interest in being a forgotten one-night stand for her and the other female agents to gossip over. No, not with Darcy Lewis. He would never be forgettable to Darcy Lewis. He insisted on that for himself. He didn’t often fall head over heels for a gal he barely spoke to, but he’d gone and gotten stupid over her when she’d been just baby-agent, sweating it out through her morning laps.

Bucky tuned back in just in time for Steve to slam his hand down on the desk and go an interesting, mottled shade of red.

“This is not your rodeo anymore, Fury-”

“Son-”

Bucky interrupted them both by standing up, tucking his tablet under one arm. Both men fell silent and looked at him. Clint gave a low whistle and then hissed as Natasha kicked him again.

“I want Nat handling,” Bucky said, “Clint on recon. Steve-”

“Bucky you don’t-” Steve interrupted.

“Steve stays here at the compound,” Bucky continued and gave his best friend a flat look that had Steve sitting back in his chair with a thump and a low grunt. Clint whistled again and then jerked to the side, shooting Nat a triumphant grin as he missed her third kick.

“This Senator Cobb is a bad actor? Me and Lewis will get the goods, and then SHIELD can take him down,” Bucky concluded. The room collectively held their breath for a moment, and then Steve coughed.

“Buck, I know you want to get back on active duty, but-”

“Hell, Steve, are you blind?” Bucky asked, flipping the tablet up, Lewis’s face plastered on it. “She’s gonna be on my arm and you’re worried about anyone taking a second look at me? Get her a blue velvet dress and call the mission accomplished.”

Natasha pressed her fingers to her lips to quell the smile floating there. She probably had a good idea that Bucky’s interests in Lewis were a little more on the between-the-sheets side than just a working relationship, but she wouldn’t give him away. Unless he ate the last of her Maltesers that Captain Canuck had brought her on his last diplomatic visit. Which he would not do. Nope.

He realized then that Fury was staring him down with that one eye, unnerving to say the least. Bucky stared right back until the man blinked and looked away.

“Get your equipment requests in. Op is in a week, so get to know Lewis before you two ship out,” Fury said as Clint popped out of his chair.

“Dibs on the good headset,” he said before sprinting out of the room, Natasha following him at a more laconic pace. Bucky waited for Fury to leave to, knowing Steve would have a few things to say.

“You’re gonna get both of you killed,” Steve said in a low voice. “Hell, scratch that, you’ll be fine, but that kid won’t be, and we’ll be sending a flag to her next of kin,” he added pointing his finger at the tablet in Bucky’s arms. Bucky, to his credit (and he rather felt he deserved a medal for not socking his friend one right then and there), took a deep breath and set his jaw.

“It’ll be fine. She’s a good agent-”

“She’s green as grass-”

“So was your ass when you went behind enemy lines and hauled my rear out of that Hydra camp, Steve, come on!” Bucky snapped finally, setting the tablet down so hard it cracked, and he looked down. The glass screen was spidered from the impact, and he cursed under his breath. Steve seemed to take the moment as a good time to back the fuck down, because his shoulders slumped.

“You really want me to stay back here?”

“You’ve been dogging my missions for months since we got state-side, and I want you to trust me to do this one on my own,” Bucky answered quickly before Steve could get another word in. The other man look even more hang-dog if possible and then gave a sharp nod.

“Fine. But you check in-”

“Every hour.”

“... Good…” Steve folded his arms over his chest and surveyed him. Bucky felt the laser-sharp scrutiny crawling down his body. “And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“Well that just leaves every possibility wide open, now doesn’t it, pal?” Bucky asked with a short laugh. Steve glared and then rolled his eyes.

“Let me introduce you to Lewis.”

 

Darcy Lewis licked her lips as she looked at the wardrobe spread out on the couches of the common room. There was a rack wheeled to one side, and she swore to god she saw some La Perla underwear on it. She would not drool, she would  _ not _ drool, she would not…

Natasha cleared her throat and Darcy glanced up, a guilty look on her face.

“You don’t get to keep them,” Nat said, and then flicked a glance over to the  _ definitely La Perla _ underwear hanging on the rack. “Except intimates, for obvious reasons.”

“For obvious reasons,” Darcy said as she walked over to the rack, refraining from skipping in sheer joy because she was a  _ professional _ . She slipped her fingers over the lace and silk, then paused, her hands tangling over the red fabric. “Uh, like, beyond the usual normally lady-sweat and stuff, obvious reasons? Or just the usual obvious reasons?” she asked as she looked over her shoulder. Natasha raised one perfectly plucked eyebrow, and gave her that demure nothing-smile. Ugh. Okay, so beyond the obvious reasons. “You’re freaking me out.”

“Did you sleep through your undercover mission courses?” Nat asked as she sat primly on the couch, pulling a stack of cashmere sweaters into her lap. “You won’t need any of these, since you’re going to a tropical island for this retreat,” she mused, “so I’ll take these off your hands if you don’t mind.”

“I thought you said I had to give everything back,” Darcy squawked in protest as Natasha stashed the sweaters in a plain, dark denim backpack.

“Mmm,” Natasha not-answered and looked up as two men entered the room. Darcy followed the line of her gaze and found her fingers clenching tight around the silky playsuit she had been molesting. Two righteous jaws of freedom, liberty, and panty-wetting goodness were standing in the doorway. Captain America, and his best friend the Winter Soldier. Otherwise known as Mr. Dorito and Freezer Burn. She bit her lip.

“Natasha,” Steve said with a nod to her before looking at Darcy, “Lewis. This is-”

“Barnes,” Darcy blurted out, “James, I mean, Agent, uh- I mean, what do I-”

“Bucky’s fine,” Bucky said, his lips mostly flat but turned up in one corner like he was laughing at her.

“Actually it’s not,” Natasha said from the couch, where she was pawing over something that looked suspiciously lycra and shiny, “you’re John Barlow, and she’s Dalia Barlow, your new wife.”

Darcy swore blind she saw a hint of panic fly across Bucky’s face before he regained his composure.

“John?” Steve asked with a snort and Bucky elbowed him, before walking into the room fully.

“Since that guy won’t introduce me properly,” he said, holding out his hand to her. She dropped her eyes to it and then flicked them back up to his face before shaking his hand.

“He doesn’t know me well enough to introduce me,” she replied. “Darcy.”

“I saw you during your basic training,” he said, and she groaned internally.

“Oh god please no,” she moaned out loud and his wicked smile meant he’d seen how bad she’d been. “I passed though, so don’t judge me.”

“No way could you’ve been worse than Rogers when he was tiny,” he said with a jerk of his head back towards where his buddy was hovering over Natasha.

“Hey,” Steve said indignantly, but Natasha hushed him, and he grumbled. Darcy was surprised to see the two of them act so casually together in front of her, as if she was a  _ part _ of something, but… she looked up at Bucky and saw him grinning down at her.

Maybe she was part of something. Not an Avenger, not like them, but part of the team. Sorta. Maybe kinda. Kinda? A flicker of excitement coiled in her stomach.

“You’re right,” she said, lifting her chin, and looking past Bucky to smirk at Steve. If they were letting her into the club, so to speak, she was gonna grab that opportunity with both hands. “I wasn’t near as bad. I could even do push-ups.”

 

Bucky lay on his back, staring up at the pin-holed ceiling tiles of his room, and listened to Steve and Nat go at it in the room next to his. He was giving them five more minutes, and then he was pounding on the wall. Sure, Natasha was going on the mission too, and Steve would miss her, but that was no reason for them to torture him. They  _ knew _ he wasn’t getting any (although he’d probably have his pick of the level two agents if he’d even looked twice at them), and still they were jackhammering into the wall with Steve’s bed.

He closed his eyes and tried to ignore the groaned out  _ fuck, Natasha _ coming from next door when his phone vibrated.

He sat up and reached for it, squinting at the bright light as it lit up his face.

_ You up? _

It was Darcy, texting him.

**_Yeah._ **

_ Cool. I’m shitting bricks. _

**_You’ll be fine. I’m with you, and Nat and Clint are great backup._ **

_ Thanks for that vote of confidence there, tin soldier. _

He looked at his phone, squinting at it, wondering what the fuck he’d done wrong there. Then he bit his lip and rolled over onto his stomach and quickly tapped out…

**_Don’t tell me you never played at being a Bond girl when you were a kid. You were born for this kind of thing. You have the right attributes for it._ **

There was a pause and she went quiet for a good minute, then two.

_ Are you saying I’ve got the right boobs for the job, Barnes? _

He groaned and let his face fall into his pillow, burrowing it there because that wasn’t what he’d meant, but maybe subconsciously he did. A pretty face and a great body went a long way in spy work. Natasha wrote the book on it. His phone buzzed softly and he risked a look at it.

_ Just busting your chops there, Icecube. I know half of it is cause I’m good with the information superhighway and that’s why you’re bringing me along. The other half is the boobs. Right? _

He felt like he should just admit defeat right there, but the smarmy part of him, the part he thought was long dead and dried out, answered for him.

**_Nah, Kid, give your ass some credit. At least ¼ of the credit belongs to what’s in those jeans of yours._ **

He exhaled shakily and put his phone down, and proceeded to ignore the next three texts she sent him.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr as hushhorizon :)


End file.
